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XIII.

All around her was silent, save when the rude blast

Howl'd dismally round the old pile;

Over weed-cover'd fragments she fearlessly past,

And arrived at the innermost ruin at last

Where the elder-tree grew in the aisle.

XIV.

Well pleased did she reach it, and quickly drew near, And hastily gather'd the bough;

When the sound of a voice seem'd to rise on her ear,

She paused, and she listen'd all eager to hear,
And her heart panted fearfully now.

XV.

The wind blew, the hoarse ivy shook over her head, She listen'd-nought else could she hear;

The wind fell, her heart sunk in her bosom with

dread,

For she heard in the ruins distinctly the tread

Of footsteps approaching her near,

XVI.

Behind a wide column half breathless with fear

She crept to conceal herself there :

That instant the moon o'er a dark cloud shone clear, And she saw in the moon light two ruffians appear, And between them a corpse did they bear.

XVII.

Then Mary could feel her heart-blood curdle cold! Again the rough wind hurried by,..

It blew off the hat of the one, and behold

Even close to the feet of poor Mary it roll'd,..

She felt, and expected to die.

XVIII.

"Curse the hat!" he exclaims; "nay, come on till

we hide

"The dead body," his comrade replies.

She beholds them in safety pass on by her side,
She seizes the hat, fear her courage supplied,

And fast through the Abbey she flies.

XIX.

She ran with wild speed, she rush'd in at the door, She gazed horribly eager around,

Then her limbs could support their faint burthen

no more,

And exhausted and breathless she sunk on the floor, Unable to utter a sound.

XX.

Ere yet her pale lips could the story impart,
For a moment the hat met her view;

Her eyes from that object convulsively start,

For.. what a cold horror then thrill'd through her heart

When the name of her Richard she knew!

XXI.

Where the old Abbey stands, on the common hard by,

His gibbet is now to be seen;

His irons still from the road may espy, you

The traveller beholds them, and thinks with a sigh Of poor Mary, the Maid of the Inn.

DONICA.

"IN Finland there is a Castle which is called the New Rock, moated about with a river of unsounded depth, the water black, and the fish therein very distasteful to the palate. In this are spectres often seen, which foreshow either the death of the Governor, or of some prime officer belonging to the place; and most commonly it appeareth in the shape of a harper, sweetly singing and dallying and playing under the water.”

"It is reported of one Donica, that after she was dead, the Devil walked in her body for the space of two years, so that none suspected but she was still alive; for she did both speak and eat, though very sparingly; only she had a deep paleness on her countenance, which was the only sign of death. At length a Magician coming by where she was then in the company of many other virgins, as soon as he beheld her he said, 'Fair Maids, why keep you company with this dead Virgin, whom you suppose to be alive?' when, taking away the magic charm which was tied under the body fell down lifeless and without motion." The following Ballad is founded on these stories. They are to be found in the notes to The Hierarchies of the Blessed Angels; a Poem by Thomas Heywood, printed in folio by Adam Islip, 1635.

her arm,

HIGH on a rock whose castled shade

Darken'd the lake below,

In ancient strength majestic stood
The towers of Arlinkow.

The fisher in the lake below
Durst never cast his net,

Nor ever swallow in its waves

Her passing wing would wet.

The cattle from its ominous banks

In wild alarm would run,

Though parch'd with thirst, and faint beneath The summer's scorching sun.

For sometimes when no passing breeze

The long lank sedges waved,

All white with foam and heaving high

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